This Is The Start Of Something Celestial
by LiteratureCat
Summary: "When I was looking for danger, I found the Doctor. When he was looking for answers, he found me." A 11th Doctor and OC Character story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: ****Unfortunately, I don't own Doctor Who – as much as I'd want to ;) – however, my own OC characters are, as you may have guess, my own. And this goes without saying for the rest of this fanfic. **

**Happy Reading (:**

* * *

Another day passing by: nothing out of the ordinary. But that was it –nothing out of the ordinary ever happened. Nothing new, nothing wild, nothing unexpected, nothing dangerous… she was, to be honest, getting a little bored of it.

Though she knew she ought to be thankful for a good, simple and happy life – it wasn't quite right. How many times can a girl go through the same thing day after day? Other people seemed to manage it, but maybe they were hiding it. Maybe everyone else was feeling the urge to go into the wild to be on the edge, to live in danger.

A shake of the head to clear her thoughts, and she stood up; the early-twenty-something with curly ginger hair elevated from her sofa, stretching her arms and long legs a little. Walking out of the living room, grabbing a grey duffle coat from a peg and keys from a table, she paused beside the front door whilst putting on the same coat in question and shoving the keys into her pocket.

Time to go out, get some fresh air and perhaps get to do _something_ in this town.

...

The young woman grabbed her coffee from the café counter, and looked around for a seat. The place was crowded with people who were sheltering from the heavy rain outside. Well, she wasn't one to fuss much about where she sat – as long as she had a seat – and so found the last available chair: on a table in the corner, next to a figure whose face was partially hidden by shadows.

"May I sit here?" She asked, more out of courtesy than of meaning: she'd already sat down.

"Yes, yes – of course…" Said the man opposite her, who ran his hand through his messy hair.

His mind seemed to be on something else. Well, that suited her. She just gave a polite little bob of the head, before quietly drinking her coffee, eyeing the large café window idly and watching the heavy rain grow more and more like a storm.

"Terrible weather, isn't it?" The words slipped out of her before she could even realise it.

"What? Yes – of course, it's all interference from a celestial being or galactic craft. Problem is, I can't seem to work out what: it's close by, assuredly, but I can't pinpoint a rough area, let alone a specific climax." The man's words were fluent and self-confident; clearly _he_ knew what he was talking about.

The girl on the other hand just let her mouth pop open slightly – she'd only engaged in some small talk. But there was something which had struck her attention: 'galactic craft'. It didn't mean anything to her, but if felt as though she did. She was probably missing out on the obvious here. Probably the obvious thing was that she shouldn't have started talking about the weather of all things. Then again, he did seem knowledgeable about the weather, so perhaps it was in his field of work.

"So… Are you like, a weather guy or something?" She asked, frowning a little.

"Not quite," The man said, smiling, "What is it that you do?"

_'Not quite?' What kind of an answer is that? _She thought to herself, but she didn't pry – he'd already asked her a question before she could ask him one.

"Oh, I'm working at the library."

"You like books?" A smile was on his lips, and she felt rather indignant – was he laughing at her?

"So what if I do?" She said, defensively, crossing her arms.

"Nothing the matter – books are great! Can't beat a good book; you can't actually, I tried."

The two fell back into silence again, though this time it was much more awkward. _What did he mean 'I tried' – is he still mocking me?_ But he seemed more serious this time, and so she believed him for now. He, on the other hand, was suddenly engrossed with looking out the window – probably going all 'weather guy' on her.

Suddenly, the man got to his feet making her jump out of her seat. Without saying goodbye, he rushed out of the café in a hurry, leaving her to look after him as he left into the cold outside. Though the rain was blurring her vision, she could make out him walking around and pointing a little green light about the place.

She slowly raised her coffee to her lips and watched him, bemused. The green light… it was odd. Almost familial. Again, she got the strangest feeling that it felt as though it meant something to her.

Upon returning back to her flat, she dumped her coat down and then dumped herself onto the sofa, running a hand through her long curls. She felt exhausted, though she had no idea why, and a great wave of tiredness came over her. To make matters worse, a slight headache was beginning to grow upon her. What was wrong? She'd just had a coffee, and now was feeling like she might as well fall asleep there and then.

But, with a deep breath, she realised she couldn't. Dragging herself around her flat she managed to ditch her clothes for her work attire; knee-length black skirt, white shirt and green cardigan. Pulling her duffle coat back on, she stumbled out of the door.

The library was only a few roads away. She just needed to get there first.

It was almost as though she had to physically pull herself to work – she'd never felt so tired before – and what's worse, the rain was battering down on her head so heavily she might as well get pressed into the ground itself. The headache was getting worse, and she lifted a weak hand to her forehead.

She had to pause for a moment, just to get her head in line, just to...

* * *

The Doctor couldn't explain it. The so-called 'terrible rain' as that girl in the shop had called it, was never fixed. It was almost as though it were alive, not by itself – that would be ridiculous – but alive _with_ something or someone.

Whatever it was, the sonic wasn't accepting it. Time to get back to the TARDIS and do some proper investigation. Doctor-style. Walking away from the café, he decided to take the longer, more scenic route; through a park, down a pretty little avenue (which still managed to stay nice despite the rain), past a library, down a couple of little roads, past a person on the ground…

What?

He skidded back a few steps, taking a closer inspection at the grey and black lump on the side of the road, with legs sprawling out behind it and half onto the road. Frowning, he leant down and tapped the shoulder of the mysterious person lightly, so as to wake them. No answer.

Cautiously, he rolled over the body to see a familiar face; the girl from the café. He smiled for a moment, but then his expression became grim. What was she doing here? Was she hurt? He gave her a once over with the sonic, but all readings which came back were garbled. Odd.

A flicker of wonder past through his eyes, and he looked around himself. The 'rain' was very heavy here… heavier than elsewhere? He sonicked the rain, and similar garbled readings came back to him. Perhaps this young lady was the reason for the disturbance in the atmosphere? Maybe, maybe.

Deciding that he wasn't going to leave her out in the rain, he gently lifted her up into his arms, her body weighing far heavier than he expected. In fact, much heavier than she should do considering her height and body proportions. Never mind that, he needed to get her to safety, and as he didn't know where she lived, the TARDIS seemed to be about right. 'Sides, it was only just down the road.

* * *

Eyes opening, conscious returning, pain increasing.

The young woman was lying on what seemed to be some sort of beige fold out sofa attached to a railing. Well, that was new. But, for the moment, the rest of her vision was too blurry for her to find out her surroundings, and right now all she could think about was the hammering in her head. It felt worse than any migraine: a constant ringing in her ears, a steady throb going through her head wave after wave, and a dull drumming sound tapping away at her.

She groaned, turning slightly on her side, the movement taking more effort than she thought it would have to, but she was glad of it – she always found it uncomfortable lying flat on her back.

"You're awake." A voice called from a little ways a way, and light footsteps came closer.

Self-preservation kicked in and she tucked her knees a little closer to herself, holding her arm protectively around her body. She didn't think of it before, but now she realised that she was in completely unfamiliar territory… or was she? Yes, she was. _Why do I doubt myself all of a sudden? _The thought crossed her mind, but she pushed it back. She needed to know where she was and who the voice belonged to.

"Who are you?" She grumbled, slowly turning herself upright on the sofa-bench, leaning on the back.

"I'm the Doctor." Said a cheerful yet worried voice, and 'the Doctor' came into view as her surroundings grew less blurry.

It seemed, to her surprise, it was the man from the café. How long ago was that? She had no idea of time. More pressingly she wandered if he was going to do any harm to her, or where she was, or he'd got to her, or how she was when he'd found her… Her mind rushed with questions, and she felt her headache getting worse and worse the more she thought. She groaned again, and held her head in her hands, leaning her elbows on her thighs.

"The Doctor? Fancy title." She muttered, looking up at him sceptically. Despite the pain, she wasn't going to give up on the scepticism which ran easily through her veins.

"Yes, it is, isn't? What's _your_ name?" He asked, seemingly oblivious to the question in her tone.

"Me? Oh, it's Delilah." She said through smiling lips. This was the point where he would go and say what a pretty name it was, or how it was unusual. That was the way things worked out usually anyway.

"Delilah, what a pretty name." He said, obviously, "Unusual too, but then again so is 'Doctor'."

Delilah couldn't help but laugh. Well, it seemed that she was right. But that was so out of the ordinary. The Doctor, on the other hand, just raised a quizzical brow at her.

"So… Doctor… can you tell me, where am I?" She asked, feeling a little sheepish that she had to ask.

"You are safe." He said, as though he was avoiding the subject. Well, she wasn't going to have that.

She quickly straightened up in suspicion, ignoring the rush of discomfort in her brain, and looking about her. Well, it was definitely an oddly architected room. With spirals and orbs and levers and switches and lights and glass floors and domed ceilings and arches and the most curious of them all; a strange something which everything seemed to revolve around, even she felt herself being drawn to it. Like an asteroid orbiting some central focus of gravity. It was large glass tube with a network of little spheres connected and-

Delilah almost felt her brain crash inwardly on to her, the throbbing intensifying and that previous gentle tapping sound was now a ferocious drum, rapping against her skull. But she found that she could blank it all. She knew it was happening, but she was completely adverse to it. The sight of the centre of the console was just…

"Beautiful." She whispered, her green eyes widened and she felt herself get to her feet.

As though she was being pulled towards it, or maybe pushed, she wasn't sure. But whatever it was, she was now slowly walking to it, one arm outstretched to reach it.

Behind her, she could hear 'the Doctor' faffing about, asking her meaningless questions about what she was doing, but she barely heard it. Eventually, she thought he might have just settled down to watching her, but then she felt his presence beside her.

"What- What are you doing?" He asked nervously, out of the corner of her eye she could see him scowling at her and prancing around her trying to grab her focus.

"It's beautiful." She whispered again, now reaching the console, and stretching out to…

Delilah breathed, for what felt like to be the first time. Somewhere in the back of her head, a tiny memory was triggered, but she wasn't able to look at it for as she touched the glass and an amber glow danced around her fingers, she felt herself crippling and falling to the ground into the foetal position.

"Delilah!" Doctor exclaimed, suddenly he was at her side, his hands trying to grab hold of her, but making no avail to get her to move.

It was though her head was burning from the inside, something trying desperately to get out of her, and boy to it give her hell. Delilah wailed miserably, squeezing her eyes closed to shut it out.

"What is it? Delilah, Delilah what's wrong?" Urgent words flowed from the Doctor's mouth, each one sounding worse than the other.

"My head-" She croaked, before ripping out a scream from her lungs.

"Okay, okay – just stay calm. You touched the TARDIS's core, something reacted in you. Not surprising really, I mean, you really aren't supposed to do that sort of thing – I did warn you…" It was just inane rambling in the back of her mind now, she wished he'd just…

"Shut up!" She screeched, her arm breaking free from her position and thrashed about wildly around her, trying to slap the Doctor to get him to just _help_.

"Oi! That's not nice!" He yelped as she met her mark, rubbing his arm where beneath his shirt it was slowly going red, "Look, just stay there and I'll get the TARDIS to scan you."

_It's not as if I'm going anywhere_, Delilah thought snappily. In the meantime, she was trying to block out the ache as best she could, but it's kind of tricky when the sound of drums is pounding in your head. For some reason, when she touched the 'TARDIS' – another word, coincidentally, which felt as though it meant something to her – her mind was just flooded.

"Blimey."

The word sounded dim to her, but she realised that on the outside, everything must be silent. Well, it was deafening in her mind, for sure.

"What?" She asked tersely, her jaw square.

There was a hesitation from the Doctor, "Well, Delilah, you are… surprising aren't you?"

* * *

**So, what do you think so far for my first fanfic? Please review – I'd love you to. And don't worry, I'll be back soon for chapter two. On a not unrelated note, the next chapter will answer a few questions but provide just as many. Love it when that happens ;3**

**Thanks for reading ^^**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:**** Refer to Chapter 1. :)**

* * *

What was that supposed to mean?

Delilah hissed between her teeth, lifted her head slightly and shot the staring Doctor a steely glare, as if to say: if you don't tell me what you mean, I'm going to kill you in a variety of different ways, each worse than the last. Or… that was the effect she wanted anyway. Either way, he seemed to have got the gist of it.

"Ah, well, what I mean to say is that you're… special." He said awkwardly, giving a hopeful smile.

She wasn't buying it. "Special?" She spat angrily, partly out of indignity and partly out of pain. What was he trying to suggest here?

"Yes. Well, no, but yes. You see, this old girl here-" He patted the TARDIS fondly, "-can recognise any being in the universe. You name it. But _you, _you little thing there, she hasn't a clue. Now that's what I call special."

"Oh." For a moment, the suffering left Delilah's face, leaving a blank, wondrous slate. Then a hint of confusion crept in, to be followed by sheer anguish.

What was happening to her? This was not normal, and now – apparently – neither was she. None of this made sense. None of it. This mixture of not knowing and discomfort was providing Delilah with some serious questions and doubts, which right now, she was not going to deal with. First, she had to get rid of the throbbing and pounding drums in her head.

"Leave me." She rasped, before moving out of her foetal position and slowly pulling herself to her knees, clutching her arms with shaky fingers.

"What?"

"Leave me. Get me out of here. Take me home."

"But- why? You're safe_ here_!" The Doctor seemed puzzled, but also a little rejected. The look of hurt on his face was enough to make Delilah feel a twinge of regret, but whatever for she didn't know.

"No I'm not. Ever since I met you in that stupid café, you've brought nothing but _bad_. Now take me home!" Her voice changed into a yell as she got to her feet, slumping half against the console to take her weight.

"What? No, no, no – Delilah, you don't understand-"

"I understand perfectly," Okay, that was a lie, "I just want to go home and for you to leave me alone." Was that a lie too? No, it was truthful in part at least.

"But-"

"_Take me home_. You don't have the right to keep me here against my free will."

The 'free will' remark seemed to have hit him the most, she must have caught a nerve. Good.

"Fine." He murmured, sounding almost defeated.

The Doctor came over to her and offered a shoulder to lean against.

"Thank you." She said curtly, taking up the offer. She might have added a sharp remark if she wanted to, she might have even rejected the offer of help and admittance of weakness if she wasn't so… weak.

* * *

Having led Delilah out of the TARDIS (so far she hadn't remark on the fact that it was bigger on the inside, but then again, she probably hadn't noticed that it was a police box yet) and over to her flat, he finally stood beside her at the lift – waiting for it to come down a few floors.

"Are you sure you want to go to your flat? It would be safer in the TARDIS." He said, half begging, but the girl beside him remained with a stony expression on her face.

"Anywhere without the 'TARDIS' is much safer. Anywhere without you." She snapped, and the Doctor had to admit – that did hurt.

An obtrusive ring told them that the lift was here, and the metal doors slid open to reveal the empty lift. He stepped in with her, and the pressure on his shoulder was lifted as she now balanced herself on the railing.

"Oh, Doctor?"

"Mm?" He said nonchalantly, more interested in straightening his bow tie in the mirrored walls.

"Your ride ends here." Her voice was brittle.

Suddenly he felt a push on his back and he was shoved out of the lift doors. Boy, did that girl have some power behind her, even in this broken state.

Finding himself on the outside of the lift, he spun around and looked at the closing lift doors, where in the gap he could see a haggard looking Delilah who was giving him a glare that could break glass. Those emerald eyes, darkened with hatred and flame red auburn hair which was wild like a creature's blazed around her head. She really didn't like him did she?

It was probably just the pain, that was it. But… what was her pain in the first place? Headaches? They couldn't be that bad, could they? Body crippling headaches? Suddenly his brown eyes fixed onto a small feature of the poor girl's body; her right hand. It was gripping onto the railing tightly, hand her index ringer in particular seemed to be drumming out a short pattern of four beats.

In the Doctor's mind, an idea formed, and he wasn't sure if he liked it or not. All he knew, was that he needed to get to Delilah before anything else happened.

"Delilah!" He yelled suddenly and lurched forwards, but it was too late – the doors had closed on him and all he found was cold metal.

Quickly, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver at caught the signal of the lift. It was going to the fifth floor. Holding it tightly in his hand he lurched up the nearby staircase, and ran round and round, up and up, winding through the building. Fifth floor. She had to live at the top, didn't she?

But his long legs seemed to have fared himself well, and the Doctor skidded onto the landing where, as the ring rang out through the fifth floor, the lift doors opened. Inside, much to his disappointment, was just an old man. All he could do was frown at him.

"What? Who are you?" He accused the man, pointing a finger at him and stepping closer to the lift to check to make sure there was no sign of Delilah.

"I'm Mr. Jonathan Reynolds… can I help you sir?" Well, the man certainly seemed puzzled. Not as puzzled as he was.

"Have you seen Delilah? Tall girl, ginger hair?" He breathed, pushing a hand through his messy hair.

"What? Delilah? She got off on the third floor… Do you live here?"

But the Doctor never answered the man's question as he was already racing down the staircase again, down a flight of stairs, turning a corner, down the other flight and whooshing out onto the third floor.

* * *

Delilah leant against her door wearily, letting the full weight of her back lean on it as she let her gaze mindlessly look around her flat. She had to admit, without the presence of the Doctor her headache was subsiding. It felt as though she was losing a few memories, though that wouldn't make sense, would it? No… of course it wouldn't.

Outside she heard a faint buzzing noise. Probably the neighbours. That reminded her – she needed to apologize to Mr. Reynolds, the poor old man didn't know where he was most days and he'd entered a lift with her and she had the feeling that she had been quite unsociable, what with all the evil glares and groaning in pain.

Suddenly, she found herself falling to the ground as the door to her flat was pulled open from behind her. Now on the ground, she felt herself leaving it almost instantly as she was now in the Doctor's arms, who was carrying her through her flat and placing her firmly on her bed, right side up.

"What?" She said her head a daze. She could already feel the banging in her head again. This guy was not good for her.

"Delilah, you need to listen to me. You are not who you think you are. This is dangerous. But it's important that you forget who you really are. Forget this day ever happened. Okay? Right, I'm going to scan you over with the sonic, get some readings and then try and wipe your memory. You _musn't _remember. You mustn't even try…"

The Doctor's voice just faded slowly into the background. Wipe her memory? What was he talking about? She didn't want to have her memory wiped. That didn't sound nice. Not nice at all. A slight whimper escaped her lips, and now she realised that she was… afraid.

And now he was pulling out an instrument from his pocket and buzzing her over with the 'sonic', suddenly her fears grew more real and she felt the need to get away from him, but he held her firmly down.

"I'm sorry Delilah, but if what's happening is what I think is happening, then I cannot let this happen."

And then, as clichéd as it was – though it could only become a cliché through it happening so often – everything went black.

* * *

**End of Chapter Two! Can you guess what might come next? You never know, if you have the ****_time_**** to think, a full blown ****_war_**** of thoughts might break out. Either way, happy reading ;) **


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Doctor Who, sadly, but I do own dear old Delilah ^.^**

**This is quite a long, complex chapter - but it's very important :) So, just try and read and understand it as best as you can. A good way, is to picture everything in your head; or at least, that's just me then ;)**

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

As the Doctor left the building and head for his TARDIS, he couldn't help but sigh. He may have finally found another Time Lord – or lady, in this case – but it seemed as though she had been tainted in a similar way to how the Master had been. And if that was the case, which he had a feeling it was, then he could do nothing but keep her away from finding her true self. If anything, he ought to prevent her from any recollections, but going back to her would be too dangerous.

His hand drew a key from his pocket and he opened the TARDIS door, doing all of this without realising it; it was just a simple habit now, he didn't even have to think about it. Closing the door behind him softly, he headed over to the console and without bothering to find a date he pulled a few levers and let the TARDIS take him wherever she wished. As long as he was away from here…

With a whoosh and a whirl his ship took off and landed again, in a new time and a new space. Smiling to boost his confidence, he ran to the doors and opened them without bothering to check where he was.

Well… it was certainly a new time, but not a new space. He was back where he was, but now it was sometime in the morning. Brilliant. But why had the TARDIS brought him here? Suddenly the sound of a smash sounded from above and a fragment of glass landed beside his shoe. Curious, he picked it up and held it to the light. It looked as though it could have come from a window.

Looking past the glass he saw a building of flats, and one of the windows had only a few splinters of glass left in it, and small amber wisps were floating through it into the atmosphere. The Doctor blinked, and counted the windows. Third floor. Of course…

He hurtled to the building, swung open the doors, leapt up the steps – no time for the lift – and round and round the staircase, to the third floor where one door seemed to be barely on its hinges. Without thinking about what might he face he pulled open the door (carefully shutting it back in place, wary of the hinges) and he made his way through the flat to the bedroom. The door to the bedroom in this case was completely gone, and there was a few pieces of broken glass on the floor. What really caught his eye was the young woman who was standing in the centre of the room.

Delilah hadn't undergone a complete transformation, but there were a few changes; her auburn hair was now much curlier – if possible – and wilder, her once deep green eyes were a slightly lighter but much bright peridot colour, she seemed to be a little taller – now almost in competition with him and she seemed to be of a much more willowy figure with a more triangular and slightly pixie-like face shape.

In her hand, she held an open fob watch and in her eyes she held a look of torment and confusion. Tricky business this.

"Look, Delilah, I know you might be confused but-"

"I remember. Or at least I think I do. But what I remember it's…"She seemed lost for words, she seemed lost herself-

"I'm not lost!" She spat, interrupting his thoughts and causing the Doctor's brow to furrow. It was probably just a coincidence – a good one at that – she was most likely reviewing the new memories coming to her.

"Memories? These can't be memories, they don't make sense. Would you be quiet? Yes, you were talking – don't think I can't hear you! Just because you're too 'cool' for me."

Delilah – though he wasn't sure what her real name was now – wasn't making any sense. He wasn't talking, was he? Perhaps he didn't realise. He didn't that often. His thoughts suddenly travelled to bowties, after all – Delilah did mention 'cool', and what could be cooler than a bowtie?

"Anything else…" Delilah muttered, presumably talking to herself.

Bringing himself out of his thoughts he stepped forwards to her carefully so as not to alarm her. Things were going to get a little more complicated from here on in. However, before he could try to explain a few things to her, the Time Lady's face suddenly went blank as she spoke:

"They are coming, prepare for arrival."

That monotonous tone of voice sent shudders down his spine and the Doctor knew it could only mean one thing; his people were back. Of course. They wouldn't always fight for more fighting wouldn't they? He gritted his teeth in frustration.

"What's wrong with that?" Delilah's curious voice asked, and he looked up at her. Was she asking him that?

But he couldn't do much more as being blinded by a sudden white light generally tends to render you paralysed for a few moments. Opening his eyes slowly and carefully, he found himself on the ground, looking up to some Time Lords' in cordial robes which could only be associated with the High Council.

Beside him, Delilah who was previously on the floor was now being grabbed to her feet and having her hands tied behind her back, all the time she was constantly talking. Now as a prisoner to his enemies, the Doctor had a feeling she would be used against him.

"Doctor." A Time Lord whispered his name menacingly, and the Doctor clenched his fists.

"Rassilon." He spat, and got himself to his feet.

The bedroom was filled with smashed objects; they didn't really have a smooth landing. However, at a glance out of the 'window' (now it was just a hole in the wall) there was no sign of any Gallifrey. No sign of any whitepoint star either. He looked back to the High Council and jerked his chin up.

"Well?" He asked, crossing his arms and waiting for the tale that was about to ensue.

"You knew we would be back-" Stately words, but easily interrupted.

"-Yes, you're little plan with the Master didn't go how you wanted did it?" Smug words, but easily dismissed.

"So we decided to use our backup plan."

The Doctor raised his eyebrows. Time Lords didn't have backup plans, or at least he didn't anyway. He glanced over to Delilah, who seemed distressed and uncontestably furious. Her gaze snapped onto his, but he looked back up at Rassilon who coughed lightly for his attention.

"Plan B, was… a last resort." The president began, seemingly finding it difficult to admit a failure, "But she had turned out to be useful – she has ensnared you."

"_Ensnared_? Hardly. I was the one who brought back the recollections, I was the one who led her to opening the fob watch, though that technically wasn't the plan…"

"Oho! The Doctor had a little accident did he?" A female in the ranks jeered softly, her eyes narrowed. But Rassilon stopped her from saying anymore. The Doctor was his catch.

"So, I suspect you're wondering how we did it?"

"No, not really. Same thing as last time isn't it. You know, you should really try to be more inventive. Look at where being inventive got people – the fez is a brilliant example."

"The fez is a rubbish example." Delilah muttered under her breath, and the Doctor shot her a glare.

"Now Doctor, you're wrong. Completely. You see, Plan B is only Plan B because it just brings back us – not Gallifrey, without even the use of a whitepoint star. She provided a very strong connection."

"Really? If it was strong, why isn't a planet bumbling along behind you?"

That sent them quiet, he seemed to have caught a nerve. For a moment, all was silent, but then Delilah broke the silence with a harsh growl of a voice.

"Because I fought you off, that's why! I didn't want you in my head. I_ don't_ want you in my head. I don't see why you used the chameleon arch, I don't see why. I don't-"

But her voice was taken away by a sharp in take of breath as Rassilon slapped her around the face, one of his rings scratching her cheek and letting a tiny trickle of blood roll down her cheek in place of a tear.

"The reason any of this happened was because of _him_!"

"Rassilon," The Doctor murmured, his voice with a hint of bitterness betraying the slow anger building inside him, "You placed her in this form without her consent. You have put in her pain just to use her as a backup plan."

"Oh, how would she care? She was raving mad in the first place, it was a good thing to get rid of her before the Time War really began – she would have been a nuisance. We made her useful."

The reasoning behind his voice sickened the Doctor, and he ran a hand through his messy brown hair. He could hear Delilah talking away to herself, asking about the Time War, then stopping in mid question as she found it answered. Someone was probably telling her all this, probably telling her one-sidedly, but he wasn't concentrating on her.

"So, the big plan then?" He asked Rassilon with his best scowl on his face.

"To destroy the human race, then to destroy time itself."

The cheek of him, the Doctor really had to admire it. What was he going to do? Probably something breaking all the rules – probably something which he hadn't thought of yet. But the way he said it, it sounded so simple.

"Not really simple, if you think about the meaning behind it." Delilah's voice cut through his thoughts.

"And they're not thoughts if you say them aloud, idiot." Again, perhaps she was mad.

"I'm not mad!" Further proof-

"-It's not proof until you have a valid reasoning."

The Doctor practically stopped in his tracks, though he hadn't been walking. He just realised something so spectacular that even his fellow Time Lords hadn't realised, even Delilah herself. The fact that he'd just had a _conversation_ with Delilah, and he hadn't said anything…

"I'm so sorry Rassilon, I really am."

"Sorry? Well, your existence isn't going to carry on much further Doctor."

"Oh no – you've got the wrong end of the stick – in fact, your end of the stick is a dangerous place to be, especially if you get on the bad side of it."

"What are you talking about?" There was a slight distress in Rassilon's peer's eyes, but in his there was only defiance.

"You ever wondered why little Delilah's mind was so strong? You ever even thought why she was 'mad'? You ever took some time to care?" He walked over to Delilah, and at first the Time Lord who was restraining her stepped in front of her, but Rassilon waved him aside. He wanted to know where the Doctor was going with this.

"I'm not!" Delilah breathed disbelievingly, shaking her head half in confusion half in awe.

"Watch my mouth." The Doctor said quietly, then began to let his mind race along through its many closets and drawers, sending his thoughts off in all directions. In front of him, he saw Delilah's mouth pop open and she shook her head frantically.

"That's not normal." She whispered, her voice barely audiable.

The Doctor straightened and spun around to face the other Time Lords, "Telepathy!"

His yell rung out clear in the shattered room, only met by stunned silence. Then by an uproar from the High Council, it's members angry that such a gift had got passed their notice, Rassilon the worst of them all.

Well, his point had been made.

The Doctor looked back at Delilah, who gave him a desperate look. Intense pity threw him off the tracks for a moment as he looked at the torture in her bright green eyes, but then he shook it away and held her face in his hands.

"Delilah, _you _are in control of this situation. Just… wish them away." His urgent voice was spoken in hushed tones; it was important that he could get away with this before anybody noticed. "They are only here due to your mind, but you don't want them there – so shove them out."

"But I-" Delilah protested, she seemed to have no idea how.

_Trust me_. He let all his thoughts focus into two words and stared into her green gaze with his brown eyes. She nodded, and screwed her eyes up tight.

Nothing happened. The others were getting agitated now, but all they saw was a pained looking Delilah and a hopeful looking Doctor.

"Shut it you! Just get your thoughts in line and think of _one _thing." Delilah's frustrated words caught him off guard, but he did as he was told. One thing. Right.

_You_.

Her eyes opened in shock and they sparkled in surprise as they looked into his gaze. The Doctor just analysed those eyes, blocking out any other thought. To be honest, she was the first thing to come to his head, though obviously she was probably seeing something more into that. She probably knew his own mind better than he did. That was a slightly disturbing thought.

Somebody kicked his shin; he looked down and saw it had been Delilah. Oh, right. Focused thoughts. He took himself back to her face, framed perfectly by bouncing auburn curls. She was, in retrospect, quite pretty really. He hadn't realised that before.

A bright light shone around them, and he could hear Rassilon roar in sheer fury.

But then it was gone, and they were alone.

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**So? Is your brain frazzled or do you understand the whole shcaboodle? (heh, shcaboodle ;3) Anyway, this should be the most complicated bit, so it goes uphill from here. Please review, because your views are very important ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Sorry for late update - been enjoying festive activites, getting ill and having work has slowed me down a little ;3**

**As usual, I don't own Doctor Who, but I do own Delilah :)**

**Happy Reading ;3**

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A pair of peridot green eyes opened as the light faded, they were swimming with held back tears and held all the torment and anguish from years to pass. The girl was lying on the floor boards in a foetal position, her hands bound together by coarse rope, her body crushing against fragments of broken glass against the floor. But all this was just a mere experience, dulled by the vivid thoughts and imaginations running through her mind.

She was telepathic. It made no sense, but somehow it managed to click into place as her whole life was put into perspective. She'd been harassed, teased, tormented and shunned by all other beings in her old life, and though those memories haunted her with a pitch black shadow, they were uplifted by this sudden revelation. If only she'd known before she was driven to insanity. If only everyone else had known; you are only really taken to the path of insanity when others chose that path for you.

Everything. It had all been for nothing, hadn't it?

Looking back on her human life, despite the troubles she may have faced there, living as Delilah hadn't been so bad. They had been the best years of her existence. True, her life had been limited as a human, but it had been so… _good_.

And then this man had come along, and she turned into _this._ A brief hatred for the Doctor surged through her, but as she looked at the man lying down beside her with his bow tie and floppy hair… She couldn't help but feel protective over him. He seemed so innocent, so childlike. The Doctor was, as much as she'd hate to admit it, nice.

In front of her, eyelids fluttered, chocolate brown eyes scanned the room and fell upon her green gaze. The Doctor blinked for a few moments, sorting out his dangerously scattered thoughts, before going into a crouch and looking down upon her.

The all too familiar hum of chatter started to creep into her head, and she inwardly begged the Doctor to stop talking. But she knew now that it was just her, hearing voices, just her…

Though why she had to put up with the occasional thoughts about whether or not she had any jammy dodgers in the cupboard she had no idea.

Auburn curls bouncing, she shifted herself upright so she could be face to face with the Doctor, though it was tricky when your hands were tied. The Doctor's voice ran through her head, wondering if he should take the rope off – or if she was dangerous.

Why would she be- right. The only person who had ever had faith in her doubted her.

"Just take off the stupid rope!" She snapped angrily, chartreuse eyes flashing.

The Doctor's surprised thoughts clanged loudly in her head as he drew back for a moment, then doing as he was told and untied her. Silently, he seemed to be trying to test out a conversation with her using his thoughts.

_How are you feeling?_

"Fine thank you." She spoke stiffly, still eyeing him with narrowed eyes.

_Good. I need to get you back to the TARDIS._

"Why? We're done here." She said, a slight threat lacing her tone.

_Really? I was under the assumption you were coming with me._

"Why should I? Your company is something I have no need for." Some stress was put on the 'your'.

But his thoughts weren't quite coherent as he felt stinging hurt at her comment. It might just be because she could really tell what he was feeling, or might be because she felt sorry for him of her own accord, but either way – she felt guilty.

_Come back to the TARDIS anyway, you could be harmed on your own._

It was like being called 'dangerous' all over again. Ginger hair bristling, she found one of her hands free from the bonds, and used it to her advantage; i.e. she slapped him.

"Ow!" The Doctor yelped, reeling backwards and leaping to his feet.

She, with a little difficulty, undid the rope around her other hand to make sure she wouldn't cut off the blood circulation to it, and then eyed the Doctor suspiciously. By the sound of his racing thoughts, he didn't seem to know where he went wrong.

"I am neither dangerous, nor am I the sort of person who gets 'harmed'. Take it back!" She shouted at him, fists clenched angrily.

Watching his unmoving lips, she listened to his thoughts which were as loud as if he was saying them aloud. Apparently, he was confused. That made two.

"What I meant was… If you end up answering people's thoughts you could get into trouble. As for being dangerous, that was a bad choice of words. Yet it is true; some may want to use your gift against others, and even if you don't want to admit it, you are powerful." The Doctor's voice was reasonable, as was his argument, but she wasn't so sure.

"So." She spoke with pursed lips, hands on hips, "TARDIS?"

"TARDIS." Doctor breathed, sounding quite relieved.

The two walked out of the apartment, leaving it broken behind them. It was like a metaphor of her life; it was only just beginning, after being shattered into pieces. Some things stayed intact, but some things had been obliterated completely.

As she walked behind him down the staircase, she found herself at a loss. His thoughts – or maybe words – were as loud as if he was speaking them, and as all she had was the back of his tweed jacket, she had no idea what to do. Deciding it was best to keep quiet, she spoke nothing, though uncertainty was creeping in.

In the TARDIS, she sat down quietly on the sofa whilst watching him fiddle with the console. It was interesting to watch him – she heard what he was going to do, then he did it. It was as though he was teaching her, though he obviously had no idea. But also in the TARDIS she picked up something else in her head which half disturbed her: another voice. A woman's voice, which didn't speak often, but when it did she couldn't really understand the thoughts. They made no sense for there wasn't a _person_ behind them. With the Doctor, she could tell he was a human (well, actually Time Lord, but basically the same thing) yet with this woman she could tell nothing. It confused her, but she still spoke nothing for fear of saying the wrong thing.

In his thoughts, she summarised that they had stopped somewhere in space – near the constellation of Cygnus, the celestial swan. Idly she pictured a swan in her head – they were pretty creatures, though she somehow didn't trust them – they often snapped out and looked pretty dangerous behind the beauty.

"Delilah? Are you listening?" The Doctor's words cut through her thoughts, and she felt like a little child.

"Could you start again?" She asked, biting her rouged lips. Luckily, the Doctor had good patience.

"We need to find a way for you to be able to block out thoughts – for you to listen to people… selectively." He spoke, though she found that she had to learn how to lip sync to make sure she understood.

"Okay. How?"

"Well, what you did with the High Council, you could try again? But you need to be able to switch it on and off so to speak. I don't really know – it's _your _mind, not mine."

"Doesn't mean I've got any idea what's going on in my mind." She muttered under her breath, rolling her pale green eyes.

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**Please, please, please review ;) ... Please ^^ ... You'll get a metaphorical cookie :3**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Still own nothing ;3

This chapter will be short, sweet but also relatively revealing :)

Happy Reading!

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The Doctor danced at jived around the TARDIS console, his merry skipping was contrasting to Delilah's heavy scowl. She watched as he flicked the switches, each new one triggering a memory in her; she was once taught about TARDIS's, then again – they all were. Even so, she'd always found them beautiful things.

Not something to be tinkered with. She noticed the 'additional' switches and wires where frankly there shouldn't be any wires. Never the less, it wasn't _her _TARDIS.

"What's your name then? It can't just be Delilah." Doctor called out from the other side of the console, and she could see his head through the glass. For a moment, she thought she might have seen something in his thoughts she wasn't supposed to. Something… deep, meaningful. She passed it by; she wasn't one to pry.

"No. My title, if you wish, is 'The Listener'. Kind of ironic, as pretty much straight after looking into the untempered schism I kind of… well – that's when I did the talking." She said, a grimace on her face.

She could remember it now, how they all stared at her chattering away, how she would yell at them to stop talking. They thought she was mad. _She _thought she was mad. It was only now that in her memories she could realise that their mouths were never open, that she had just been a fool.

"Listener. Interesting… So, it was only after looking into the schism that you…?" The Doctor trailed off, but his thoughts were clearer than day.

"Yes." She said dryly, shooting him a quick glare. He merely nodded, continuing along with his ways.

_We're now fixed – it's a bit timey wimey, but we can fly here for a while. _The Doctor's projected thoughts slapped against her, and she rubbed her forehead.

"You don't have to shout!" She muttered under her breath, and she could swear she saw him smile.

"So… Just, focus on something else. Take away the chatter, not completely but… Your mind your rules."

Huh. So that was how it was going to be; give it your best shot, and if it doesn't work it'll be a pity. Bright auburn hair seeming bushier with concentration, she tried to die down that extra voice in her head.

Well, it'd be a miracle if it worked first time.

Not wanting to be put out, she leant against the rails of the TARDIS and kept her eyes wide open – anything for a distraction. But what was there big enough to keep her mind away from others'? She hadn't a clue, but in the meantime the Doctor was trying out nicknames in his head ; seemingly unaware of her intrusion.

"No. I am not going to be called '_Listy'_! Nor am I going to be called 'Ners'or 'Listerwister'." She said gruffly, scowling at him.

He blushed, but wouldn't let it get to him. "Aw, why not? It's better than Listener – too much of a mouthful."

"Really? And Doctor isn't a mouthful? Hey – you can call me 'Listy' or whatever, but I get to call you 'Doc' if that's the case." She snapped, green eyes narrowed.

"Urgh!" The look of repulsion on the Doctor's face caused a look of smugness on her own. Well, she'd won that argument.

They went back into silence, (well, not so much silence from her point of view) and she realised something. All the time they'd been talking, the thought stream from the Doctor had been dialled down. It was as though she'd… gone from one level awareness to another. Or something.

With a sigh 'Listy' sat down on the TARDIS steps, fully aware of the Doctor's pondering about her, when one of his thoughts caught on with her.

_It's like her brain runs on a different wavelength._

He was right. Well, he wasn't, but he could be. If… if she thought of her brain with levels, with two sets of wavelengths – like AM and FM, then she could sort of make sense of it. She could tune down the AM and listen to FM, or she could switch channels or wavelengths or whatever it was. But how things were now, she was just getting an uncomfortable stereo.

Now she had more of a theory about how her brain worked, she felt more at ease. If she could harness this hypothesis, then she'd be in control.

Shutting her eyes, she slowly turned the 'cogs' in her mind, picturing a radio. For a moment, the Doctor's thoughts dulled into a low hum of background noise, but in her excitement she lost concentration and they came back to her again. He was back to think about bow tie colours again.

"Doctor?" She called, and his round blue eyes were on her immediately.

"What, Listy?" He asked, gently rebuking her, but she dismissed it as she told him her 'radio' theory.

They were quiet for a minute, she could tell from the Doctor's thoughts that he was running through her theorem, trying to see how it would and wouldn't work. He basically came to the same conclusion as her; why not?

And that was it. Why not?

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